Family Resemblace
by BasementOfTheMansion
Summary: A rather familiar bedtime story.


"Tell me a bedtime story, Daddy," The little girl asked, peeking up a him through a toy mask, one of her mother's creations but made sturdy enough for a child's wear and tear.

"Er... Isn't that normally your mum's job?"

"I want you to tell me a story this time! Please?" she added hastily.

"Alright, fine... Where's the storybook?"

"I hate that soppy book! All the ends are the same. Mommy makes up her own stories and they're better."

"Of course she does. You know, kiddo, your mum's really the one that's good at making things up. But I might just have a story for you..."

He cleared his throat and began to speak, and in the telling of the story his voice seemed to become deeper, hypnotic almost.

"Once upon a time, there was a girl who dreamed up a world of her own. It was a proper sort of world, with all sorts of lurky dark places and sparkly light places and flying books and buildings and all kinds of other useful things. And all was well and good until the whole thing started to go bad. You see, there was a light queen and a dark queen, and the light queen was put under a spell of sleep by a runaway dark princess and the dark queen became more and more powerful and the end of the world seemed near.

"Until the girl fell into her own dream, and decided to save it. There she met a charming, handsome, incredibly attractive and wonderful guide and they journeyed about looking for a magic charm to wake the sleeping queen. The charm had been hidden somewhere by the dark princess, who had run away into the girl's world while she was in the dream-world.

"And they wondered around and after a lot of trials and adventures they ended up with the key to the box that held the charm and a clue to where the box was, and with a lot of cleverness they figured it where it should be, but a few wrong turns landed them smack in the middle of the dark lands."

He sighed, and for a moment seemed to be trying to form his next sentence, which apparently wasn't coming easily. Finally, he continued in a more somber tone. "And the girl got hurt and her guide, who hadn't had much in the way of guidance in his life, sold her out to the dark queen, who put her under a spell. And the dark princess was slowly destroying the world. All seemed lost."

The child sighed, mask forgotten in her hand, too involved in the story to think of anything else.

"But it really wasn't," he continued, the note of heaviness vanished from his tone. "The dashing guide returned in true heroic fashion and woke the girl from the spell-"

"With a kiss?" she interrupted, brows furrowing.

"Of course not, silly girl," he replied with a grin. "With juggling."

"Oh... That's alright then," she agreed. She liked juggling much better.

"And they found the charm that the princess left behind and fled from the dark queen, who of course pursued them with all her shadowy powers. They got away, but by then the princess had destroyed almost all the girl's dream-world, except for a little bit she hadn't realized she missed. And from that bit the girl confronted the princess and switched them back to their right worlds. And the queen woke up and the light was in harmony with the dark again."

"Is that it?"

"Basically. That whole bit, anyway. Good stories never _really_ end."

"What about the guide? What happened to him?"

"Well, he and the girl met again, but that's a far longer and much less interesting story and falls distinctly in the 'I'll tell you when you're older' category."

"That's not--" She broke into a huge yawn. "--fair, Daddy."

"Life usually isn't, sweetheart. Now time for bed." He pulled the covers over her tiny form and kissed her good night. "Sweet dreams."

He laid her mask on the bedside table and switched off the light.

Helena met him at the doorway.

"Nice story," she whispered almost inaudibly. "Though I find it inexplicably familiar," she added with a grin.

"I'm sure it's your imagination," Valentine retorted at a similar volume. "Always was overactive."

"I'll say... Look who it came up with. Oh, did you see?"

"What?"

She pointed to the wall. In the dim light a piece of paper was visible, tacked on to the wall and covered with crayon scribbles that had only recently evolved into proper pictures. He could make out tall buildings...

"She'd better not draw herself a boyfriend," he whispered in a sullen and fatherly way.

Her shoulders shook with silent laughter. "Not 'til she's older. Now come on." She closed the door and they left their daughter to her dreams.

* * *

_The propmt request formerly here is and has been closed for a long time._


End file.
